More fig tree observations

I'm getting used to the new look of my fig tree and looking forward to how it will take shape once we emerge from winter.

Pruning the fig was tricky for me. The branches are much more flexible than what I'm used to. I felt the whole tree bend and twist as I worked away. Left over figs rained down on my head. I'm sure it was quite the spectacle.

As I cleaned up, my husband looked at the tree and asked, "What are the starlings going to eat?"

"Exactly!" I replied. Maybe with a small crop next season, my tree will fall off their radar and I can actually have a harvest one of these years!


Another view looking towards the house.

Renovation

I use the term renovation over pruning when referring to a job that initially looks pretty drastic rather than just a few cuts to improve the shape of a tree or shrub.

My first experience with such a task was when I interned at Filoli Center. We took the large laurel hedge back to "sticks" in the cutting garden. There were few leaves left to speak of. As far as my job satisfaction was concerned, I didn't feel like I accomplished much. Accodring to my eyes and what I learned about pruning in my studies, it was ugly. But, like a house renovation, there needs to be some "gutting" before the final vision is realized. I returned a year later once the new growth flushed out and saw what we did resulted in a well-controlled formal hedge.

Now, this is similar to what I had to do with my fig tree in the front yard this fall. I dreaded it--avoided it--especially with a possibly of an audience. There is no where to hide when I'm working out there. And since I'm also a professional gardener, I wonder what people think as they watch what I'm doing; fearing they're calling Plant Amnesty on me. But I knew if I did nothing, it would only be a bigger problem later on.

Last year, I had a couple of friends help me take it back a few feet. They are tree pruning professionals (arborsists) and could reach the branches better than I could with my eight-foot ladder. They could had taken more out, but I didn't blame them for being cautious.


Two afternoons later and three full large green waste cans later, I have a more manageable tree. I don't recommend this type of pruning for any tree. I know fig trees can take a hard pruning. I probably sacrificed next summer's fig crop, but I think the tree will be better for it overall. Plus, maybe with less fruit to pick from, it will fall off the starlings' radar. One can only hope!

Oh! Snap!

Don't you just hate it when this happens? I couldn't believe it. I was just readjusting the side branch that was established after last year's pruning. Just needed to bend the branch a tab bit more and...

"SNAP!"

There it goes. No saving that branch. Nothing left to do but to prune it and hope some buds break for both a new leader and side branch. It seemed hopeless since I pruned out the possibilities.

Or so I thought.

A few weeks later, there were two buds where I had pruned out another leader. I had goofed the previous year and angled the cut so it was facing west. It seemed unwise with our long, warm summer days. I tried to switch the leader as the side branch and looked like it would have worked just fine. Until, I didn't realize my own strength and broke the branch.

Turns out the new branches are better positioned.

You can see the cracked branch just to next to the new left side branch. You can also see where I made that pruning cut in the front last year.

I'm relieved that I have a new start with these branches. I'm going to be extra careful next time!

In the meantime, I've been pruning out the water sprouts and eying potential fruit-bearing spurs for next year. Last year, I had several apples which I should have gleaned off and not left any on the tree. But, I wasn't able to do it. I left a couple on just to see what would happen. The fruit wasn't that good given it's only it's third year in the ground.

I had flowers, but no fruit this year. I hope it's not because I stressed out the tree last year by leaving the fruit on to ripen. Maybe the tree has to gain more energy. I promise the next time to not leave any fruit on the tree!